


Sunshowers

by DemonLogic



Series: Freaks Together [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s07e03 The Girl Next Door, F/M, Gen, Impulsive Decisions, Kitsune, Runaway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28993617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonLogic/pseuds/DemonLogic
Summary: Sam had often thought about running away from the hunting life, but logic has always prevented him from following through. A split second-decision after being saved by a kitsune has Sam reassessing what he actually wants out of life. Set at the end of Season 7 episode 3, The Girl Next Door.ORThat time Sam ran away with Amy-The-Kitsune, and did his best to never be found.
Relationships: Amy Pond (Supernatural)/Sam Winchester
Series: Freaks Together [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2126910
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Sunshowers

**Lincoln, 1998**

“Come with me.”

Sam’s eyes shot up to meet Amy’s terrified blue gaze. But she continued, “We don’t have to be alone. We can be freaks together, Sam.”

“I can’t,” Sam said, eyes drawn away from her to his feet. _How could he deal with this?_ Amy had finally made him feel like a real person. Like the weird not-quite-fitting-in-his-own-skin thing was normal. And then she turned out to be a kitsune. But then she killed he own mother for him. _What was he supposed to do?_ “I’m sorry.”

“Please, Sam,” she asked again, “I don’t know where else to go or what to do. I-” Her eyes locked onto the cooling corpse of her mother.

Later, Sam would admit that it was a split-second decision, one without much thought behind it. It definitely wasn’t given the consideration that an only-barely-fifteen-year-old should give to the thought of running away from home, but for just a moment she’d made him feel like he, Sam, was good enough just the way he was.

“Okay.” As he said it, his world shifted into something sharper. A mindset he'd been trained to sink into his entire life. _What would a hunter do if they stumbled into a Kitsune’s house and saw this? What would they see and what would they know?_ Sam moved to the kitchen and ignored the mason jar with a brain floating in it to look for anything flammable, “You grab the cash, any food you have, and anything you want to keep. Anything we can’t carry with us we’re going to have to burn. We can’t leave signs that anyone besides your mom ever lived here for a hunter to find.” 

* * *

After a week with Amy, Sam was afraid he’d made the wrong decision.

It’s not that Amy had done anything wrong. Living with Amy was actually one of the best parts of the entire mess.

But the decision to run was not well planned. Throughout his entire childhood, Sam had dreamed of being able to run away and live a normal life in a normal house, with a dog, and with _Dean_.

He didn't get any of that.

Amy’s mother had left a surprising amount of cash tucked away in the house for Amy to pilfer, but Sam supposed, if one was a supernatural creature who might have to go to ground at the drop of a hat, being prepared definitely had its bonuses. Amy thought there might be more supplies in a few train station lockers scattered throughout the country, but she couldn't be sure what, if anything would be found.

He and Amy were warm, and had plenty to eat, but even if they did get their hands on more cash, it wouldn’t last forever.

Sam wondered if Amy was having doubts as well, and immediately felt guilty for his train of thought. _It’s not like Amy could take anything back if she wanted to_. Amy had killed her own kind, her only family, to protect Sam.

He knew he was a mess- a veritable rollercoaster of conflicting emotions. But the benefits and negatives of his newfound situation were both so strong, it was hard to do anything besides boomerang between elation and terror.

On the one hand…..Freedom was as wonderful as it was frightening. Whereas travel with his father had always seemed such a chore, a week of near constant movement with Amy wasn’t nearly so bad when he got to keep a consistent friend and had a say in what was happening and where they would go. Amy wasn’t too picky about where they went or what they did as long as they were safe. And Amy had spent enough of her childhood traveling that it wasn’t new or strange for her.

For the first time in his entire life, Sam felt like he was in control of his life and his future.

And yes, there was still travelling, he hadn’t escaped that part of his life, but there was no more _hunting._ He could be his own person instead of being defined by his family.

But the negatives… Sam might've been in control of the future, but that didn't make it any more certain. An uncertain future just made him think about Dean. Dean who had been the only constant he had. Dean who he had left behind.

Leaving Dean was the hardest part. Sam couldn’t help but shy away from thoughts of his brother to avoid the uncomfortable weight that would otherwise form in the pit of his stomach.

_This was the best way to become his own person. Not John Winchester’s kid. Not a hunter-kid. Just Sam._

Sam shook his introspective thoughts away. He needed to ignore the negatives, because despite his doubts, he would not go back. Amy needed him. She alternated between the pleasant enigmatic girl that Sam had met at the library and someone who was silent and pained nearly often as Sam’s own polarized moods shifted. She couldn’t take back her decision like Sam could, and he wouldn’t leave her after committing to this path.

He needed to bury that part of himself; it wouldn’t help him or Amy. And he needed to focus for her. The singular brain her mother had brought home the night they fled hadn't lasted very long, and human food could only do so much for a kitsune. They would have to find a way to feed her soon.

* * *

After two days of observation they made their move. Small-town funeral parlors aren’t well known for their security, and it was easy for Sam to ensure they found one without any cameras. Leaving no trace of who had been there was the only way to assure their safety.

Shortly after 5pm, Sam and Amy watched an employee leave _Brown & Sons Mortuary and Crematorium_ and lock the door behind them. It was earlier than they’d locked up the previous two days, and Sam insisted they wait a few additional hours to make sure no one was coming back before they attempted to enter.

It was surprisingly easy to get inside. Even without a lock-pick set, Sam didn’t need more than a few of Amy’s hairpins to open the back-door. He entered before Amy, performing a quick sweep to verify they were alone and that no additional security would detect them before he moved to the back of the building.

Sam made short work of the final lock between the parlor itself and a large door marked Employee’s Only, allowing Amy first entry.

Sam had expected it to be industrial. Sterile. Maybe stainless-steel coated racks of refrigerators built into the walls. A room resembling a morgue from crime-shows.

It was nothing like that.

The room was large, with wooden floors. The back side of the room had built-in wooden cabinets and a plastic-topped counter with an odd pump next to a small sink. Two large white tables stood in the middle of the room, clean and bare. Three coffins were pressed against the walls of the room, lids closed. A single refrigerator was wedged between two of the coffins. For all that the refrigerator looked 8 feet deep, the height and width didn’t appear too different from an average kitchen fridge.

Sam slipped the backpack he’d been wearing from his shoulder while Amy moved to open the coffins. Sam had packed a backpack for them of thermoses and mason jars so that Amy could store what she could. Brains wouldn’t last too long outside of a human skull- especially ones that were already being harvested from less-than-fresh humans, but they would make do with what they had.

Sam laid the containers out on one of the white tables and looked to Amy, who had extended her kitsune claws but had not yet begun harvesting from the bodies.

“It doesn’t smell very appealing,” and she wrinkled her nose at the corpse of the elderly gentleman in the casket.

“Have you ever, uh-” Sam mimed a jabbing motion as if he had claws of his own, and Amy shook her head.

“No, but I think I’ve got this,” she hesitated a moment, “Do you want to leave? The room, at least, I mean. I’m not sure how clean this will be.”

Sam bit the inside of his cheek. He very much wanted to leave the room, but that didn’t seem like the move a supportive friend should make, “It’s fine.”

Sam did avert his eyes as she cracked the man’s skull behind the earlobe. _Just like an icepick_ , Sam thought deliriously. Okay, maybe the situation was getting to him a bit. _This is fine_. _Freak out later. Amy needs food_.

Amy pulled a chunk of the man’s brain out through the newly made hole and brought it to her nose. “Sam, there’s something really wrong,” she inhaled deeply, “It doesn’t smell like food. It smells like- like kitchen cleaner and bad pickles.”

Sam swallowed. He could do this, “Um. Probably formaldehyde. The embalming process actually makes it impossible to collect Dead Man’s blood too. Dean told me-uh…. Doesn’t matter," He was rambling, "Anyways. Check the fridge.”

Amy closed the coffin lid and made her way over to the refrigerator. Two bodies waited inside. “Those-uh. Those bodies are probably for cremation. They’ll still be normal. Probably.”

Sam tried not to pay to much attention when Amy began harvesting the corpses in earnest. His assessment on the state of the refrigerated bodies must have been correct, as she began sorting out pieces of brain and placing them into containers.

“I thought kitsune only ate the pituitary glands,” Sam commented. Apparently he was _not_ good at this whole not paying attention thing.

Amy nodded, and continued sorting the pieces, “Yeah, the pituitary is definitely the best part, but the entire brain stem will feed us. I don’t think I’m really going to have the luxury of picky eating anymore,” she looked up at him sheepishly, claws dark with bits of pink and grayish material still speared to them.

Sam nodded and swallowed again, not trusting his voice to speak. Instead he moved forward to the table and began putting lids on jars and placing finished containers back into their backpack.

They quickly cleaned up the room as best as possible, and Amy washed off once-again-clawless hands in the sink.

“Thank you, Sam,” she said when they were finished.

“You’re welcome. It was no problem,” and here, as they stepped outside of the room with the corpses that felt more like the truth.

But Amy laughed lightly, “No, it was! You were obviously kinda freaking out during the whole brain part. But you stayed. And you helped me.”

Sam smiled at Amy’s laugh. He hadn’t gotten to hear it very often since they’d left Lincoln, but it was a nice laugh. When it happened her eyes smiled, crinkled up in the corners, and her whole face lit up. Bright blue-eyes, and sweet blonde hair. And Dean and Dad would’ve killed her if they’d ever found her in that house.

“It’s what friends do; you’ve gotta eat. I’ll get more used to it as we go,” a corner of his mouth quirked upwards, “I mean this is kinda part of the package I signed up for. Freaks together, right?”

Amy moved forward slowly eyes locked on Sam's mouth. His mind froze as she pressed her lips to his. Sam had a brief flash of relief that Amy hadn’t actually yet eaten any of the brains they’d just harvested before he was able to press back gently against her mouth and rest a hand on her arm.

He was there, and Amy was there, and they would be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, I haven't worked on any sort of creative writing in 13 years. Decided to give it a whirl again! Let's see where this goes.


End file.
